


Closed Doors

by Alex8Jenny



Series: Original Work [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alex Falk, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Canon Gay Relationship, Caroline Falk, Coming Out, M/M, Marco Anselmetti, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Quick fic from english, Sad, sorry if you cry, vv feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex8Jenny/pseuds/Alex8Jenny
Summary: My english project... My goal was to make the teacher cry, idk if it'll work tbh.. But!!Alex comes out as asexual to his mom...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a QUICK note, the conversations that are had in this story are based on real conversations I've had with my mom...
> 
> Enjoy.

"Try not to be so worried. I'm sure it'll be fine."

Alex looked away from the window. He hadn't realized he was chewing at his lip. He had been so lost in the passing trees, which were covered in a thin layer of snow, to notice. 

Marco was seated next to him, his hands playing idly with the plaid scarf around his neck. Alex managed to pull a smile, though weak, and looked down at his hands. 

"I know. I'm just coming out as ace, right? Why should I be worried? She probably won't care anyway..."

"Yeah," Marco grabbed one of Alex's hands and squeezed their fingers together, "besides, you've already told her you're gay, so it's not like she'd be getting grandkids anyway."

Alex nodded, and the weight in his chest lessened. He squeezed Marco's fingers back and smiled at him. "Thanks."

The bus slowed to a stop. Marco pulled away from Alex and slung his bag over his shoulder. 

"Good luck! Love you!"

"Love you, too..."

Alex watched Marco leave the bus. He returned his gaze to the trees as the bus picked up speed and continues down the road.

 

 

 

"Mom?"

Alex dropped his bag at his feet. He undid his jacket with a slight tremor in his fingers and slipped it off, hanging it on the rack next to the door. He kicked his shoes off and made his way to the kitchen, calling for his mother again: "Mom?"

"I heard you the first time."

Alex's confidence wavered, but he stuck his ground. He said he was going to come out, so he would. Worst case scenario, she would tell him she didn't care. 

Alex rounded the corner and found his mom wiping down the counter. Her hair was up in a tight ponytail. It had been slowly turning from brown to silver over the years. She always said it was Alex's fault. One hair, she said, was from when a baseball had hit him in the ribs and he had crumpled to the ground, winded. Another hair was from when he had almost fallen from the edge of the ferry when he was four. A whole section, she said, was from when they had had a fight and Alex had left the house in a fit of frustration.He hadn't come back for two days, and didn't talk to her for two more. 

His mother looked up from the counter and ceased her cleaning. 

"What do you want?"

Alex licked his lips and looked down at his fingers. "I need to tell you something..."

"Then look at me and tell me."

He looked up again. His mothers face seemed judgemental, almost as if she were upset at him for interrupting, and one of her hands was on a hip while the other leaned against the counter. Alex inhaled through his mouth before speaking. 

"I'm... I'm asexual."

For a moment, neither said anything. A knife could cut the silence. Then his mother scoffed. 

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Alex's breath caught in his throat. He licked his lips and tried not to fiddle with his sweater as much. His mother always hated that. 

"It's, uh, it means that I... Asexuals are people who don't wanna have sex.” 

His voice was barely above a whisper. He was sure his mother would tell him to speak up, but she didn't. She merely stood there, contemplating. Then: 

"That's not a real thing. I like to have sex, so I don't see why anyone else wouldn't want to."

By now his mother had abandoned the washcloth and had both hands on her hips. Alex's stomach was starting to twist. This was a mistake. He should've just let it be. 

"Being asexual isn't a... it's not a choice. I didn't choose to be... This way." Alex stumbled over the words. His heart rate was starting to get faster. The last thing he needed right now was a panic attack. 

"Uh huh. You kids with all your different sexualities and genders, trying to be special. In my day, people were bullied for _looking_ gay, you didn't even have to be."

Alex hadn't realized he had pulled his shoulders forward and had shrunk down. He bit at his lips to keep tears from spilling over. 

"Don't be upset, Alexandre. You're my son, it's my job to tell you 'no'. I only want what's best for you. You shouldn't close any doors, you might find you enjoy sex. All the guys I've known have."

Alex wanted to get out of there. This was a mistake. He found himself hiding behind his bangs, his breathing picking up. 

His mother turned to the sink. 

"You know what would be good tonight? Chilli."

Alex managed to give a weak reply before slipping out of the kitchen. His chest felt cold, like his blood vessels were turning to ice. His hand trembled as it reached for his door handle. 

_You shouldn't close any doors_

Shouldn't close any doors. How could he close any doors when he didn't have any to begin with?

_You might find you enjoy sex_

It wasn't a question of whether he'll enjoy it or not. Alex was sure he would, if he ever had it. The problem was that he didn't ever _want_ to have it. Maybe with Marco, but Alex was definitely not ready for that. 

Marco. Alex's fingers closed around his phone in his pocket. His movements were automated, as if he had called his boyfriend a thousand times before. And he had. Whenever he was down, or happy, or bored, he called Marco. 

Someone picked up the phone. 

"Hey Alex! How'd it go?"

Hearing Marco's voice lessened the weight in Alex's chest. He let out the sob he had been holding in. Hot tears began to spill from his eyes as he told Marco about what happened. He stumbled over his words, sometimes not even able to form coherent sentences. And through it all, Marco listened, like he always did.

They talked for hours. Alex's sobs had slowly turned to sniffles, his erratic breathing slowing to calm, deep breaths. His head eased onto his pillow, and before long, he found himself drifting off to the sound of Marco's voice.

 


End file.
